sa ospital ng davao, nalaman ni rafael ang batang itinago ni alina, ngunit isang pirma ang mas malupit kaysa katotohanan
bahagi 3: sa ospital ng davao, nalaman ni rafael ang batang itinago ni alina, ngunit isang pirma ang mas malupit kaysa katotohanan
Nahulog ang cellphone mula sa kamay ni Alina.
Tumama iyon sa sahig ng opisina ni Rafael at umikot nang ilang beses bago tuluyang huminto malapit sa basag na piraso ng baso.
Tahimik ang buong silid.
Walang gumalaw.
Kahit si Bianca, na ilang sandali pa lang ay halos mabaliw sa kakasigaw, ay natigilan din. Para bang pati siya ay hindi inasahang ang lihim na ibinato niya ay may mas malalim pang hukay.
Rafael stared at Alina.
His lips moved, but for a few seconds, no words came out.
“What child?” ulit niya, mas mahina, mas paos, mas puno ng takot. “Alina… anong bata ang sinasabi niya?”
Hindi sumagot si Alina.
Yumuko siya para pulutin ang cellphone, pero bago pa man niya iyon maabot, mabilis na yumuko si Rafael at kinuha iyon.
Sa kabilang linya, patuloy ang boses ng lalaki.
“Alina? Alina, can you hear me? We need your consent. The baby’s oxygen level is dropping. We can’t wait much longer.”
Baby.
Parang may matalim na bakal na tumusok sa dibdib ni Rafael.
Baby.
Hindi “patient.”
Hindi “child.”
Baby.
Dahan-dahang itinaas ni Rafael ang telepono sa tainga niya.
“Sino ito?” tanong niya.
Sa kabilang linya, saglit na natahimik ang lalaki.
Pagkatapos, naging maingat ang boses nito.
“This is Dr. Miguel Alvarez. Sino po kayo?”
Si Alina, na parang biglang natauhan, hinablot ang cellphone mula sa kamay ni Rafael.
“Doc Miguel, ako ito. Papunta na ako. Huwag kayong pipirma ng kahit ano. Hintayin ninyo ako.”
“Alina, we already tried to stabilize her. Kung hindi tayo gagalaw ngayon—”
“Sinabi kong hintayin ninyo ako!”
Naputol ang boses niya sa huling salita.
Hindi dahil galit siya.
Kundi dahil natatakot siya.
Rafael had never heard that kind of fear from her before.
Hindi iyon takot para sa sarili.
Takot iyon ng isang ina.
Nanlaki ang mga mata ni Rafael.
“Her?” bulong niya. “Babae?”
Doon tuluyang nanginig ang balikat ni Alina.
Attorney Marisol immediately stepped between them.
“Mrs. Reyes, we should leave now.”
“Hindi siya aalis hangga’t hindi niya sinasagot ang tanong ko!” sigaw ni Rafael.
Napalakas ang boses niya, ngunit wala na iyong dating awtoridad.
Hindi iyon boses ng isang makapangyarihang CEO.
Boses iyon ng isang lalaking biglang nawalan ng lupa sa ilalim ng mga paa niya.
Alina slowly looked at him.
“Wala kang karapatan.”
“Kung anak ko iyon, may karapatan ako!”
The moment the words left Rafael’s mouth, Alina laughed.
A short, bitter laugh.
“Anak mo?” she repeated softly. “Ngayon mo lang naisip ang salitang iyan?”
Rafael froze.
Alina’s eyes reddened, but she did not cry.
“Alam mo ba kung ilang beses kong hinawakan ang pregnancy test sa banyo, iniisip kung paano sasabihin sa iyo?”
His face changed.
“Pregnancy test…”
“Oo. Dalawang buwan bago namatay si Mama.”
Every word landed heavily.
“Gusto kong sabihin sa iyo noong gabi ng anniversary natin. Pero dumating ka nang lasing. Amoy alak. Amoy perfume ni Bianca. At ang unang sinabi mo sa akin ay, ‘Huwag mo akong istorbohin. Pagod ako.’”
Rafael could not breathe.
Alina continued.
“Kinabukasan, dinala ko si Mama sa check-up. Siya ang unang nakapansin. Tinanong niya ako kung buntis ako.”
A faint tremor passed through her voice.
“Siya ang unang natuwa.”
For the first time, tears filled Alina’s eyes.
“Sinabi niya, ‘Kapag nalaman ni Rafael, babalik siya sa bahay nang mas maaga. Magiging ama na siya.’”
Rafael lowered his head.
His fingers curled into fists.
Alina looked at him as if he were a stranger.
“Pero hindi ka bumalik.”
The police officers remained silent near the door. The old manager looked away, unable to watch.
Bianca’s expression twisted.
She had thrown the secret like a weapon, but she had not expected it to wound everyone, including herself.
Rafael took one step toward Alina.
“Nasaan siya?”
Alina’s face went cold again.
“Hindi mo siya makikita.”
“Alina, anak ko siya.”
“Hindi.” Her voice was firm. “Biologically, maybe. But you are not her father.”
Rafael flinched as if slapped.
“I didn’t know.”
“Because you never wanted to know anything about my life.”
Silence.
Then Bianca suddenly laughed.
It was sharp, hysterical, and ugly.
“Ang galing mo, Alina. Napakagaling mong magdrama. Itinago mo ang bata para magmukhang masama si Rafael. Ngayon lahat kayo naaawa sa iyo!”
Rafael turned on her.
“Shut up.”
But Bianca had already lost control.
“No! Bakit ako tatahimik? Ako ang mahal mo! Ako ang kasama mo araw-araw! Ako ang nakakaalam ng mga problema mo sa kompanya! Ako ang nakikinig sa iyo kapag sinasabi mong boring si Alina, na para siyang furniture sa bahay ninyo!”
Alina’s eyelashes trembled slightly.
Rafael’s face turned white.
“Bianca…”
“Bakit?” Bianca cried. “Hindi ba totoo? Hindi ba sinabi mo iyan? Hindi ba sinabi mong kasal ka lang sa kaniya dahil gusto ng pamilya mo? Na kung hindi dahil sa nanay mo, matagal mo na siyang iniwan?”
The words filled the room like smoke.
Alina stood still.
But the pain in her eyes was deeper than tears.
Rafael looked at her in panic.
“Alina, I was angry. I didn’t mean—”
“You meant every word,” she said.
“No.”
“You just didn’t expect me to hear them today.”
Rafael could not deny it.
Because those words had existed.
Maybe said carelessly.
Maybe said in frustration.
Maybe said to flatter Bianca.
But they existed.
And now they had returned like witnesses.
Attorney Marisol checked her watch.
“We have no time for this. Mrs. Reyes, the flight is waiting.”
“Flight?” Rafael immediately asked. “You’re going to Davao?”
Alina did not answer.
That was answer enough.
Rafael grabbed his coat from the chair.
“I’m coming.”
“No, you’re not.”
“You can’t stop me.”
Alina looked at him.
“I can.”
She took a document from Attorney Marisol’s folder and placed it on the table.
Rafael looked down.
It was a notarized document.
A medical authorization.
A custody declaration.
His eyes scanned the lines.
Then his blood ran cold.
Under father’s information, there was a blank line.
Under legal guardian, only one name appeared.
Alina Reyes.
Rafael slowly looked up.
“You left my name blank.”
Alina’s expression did not change.
“When I was bleeding alone at three in the morning, your name could not stop the pain.”
His pupils shook.
“When I was rushed to the hospital after collapsing during Mama’s wake, your name could not sign the emergency consent.”
She swallowed hard.
“When the doctor asked for the father, I looked at the door and waited for you.”
Rafael said nothing.
“You never came.”
The office fell into an unbearable silence.
Alina took the paper back.
“So yes. I left it blank.”
At that moment, Dr. Miguel called again.
Alina answered immediately.
“What happened?”
This time, the doctor’s voice was clearer, urgent and strained.
“Alina, we have to transfer her to the neonatal ICU now. Her breathing is unstable. I need consent for the procedure.”
“I’m on my way to the airport.”
“Too late. We can accept verbal consent, but I need confirmation now.”
Rafael stepped closer.
“Let me talk to him.”
Alina covered the phone.
“No.”
“Alina, please.”
“No!”
Her voice cracked.
Then she turned away, clutching the phone with both hands.
“I give consent, Doc. Do whatever is necessary. Save my daughter.”
My daughter.
Not our daughter.
My daughter.
Rafael stood behind her, every part of him turning numb.
The police finally moved and escorted Bianca toward the door.
But Bianca was not done.
As the officer held her arm, she suddenly shouted:
“Rafael! Kung pupunta ka sa Davao, maghanda ka! Hindi lang bata ang makikita mo roon!”
Everyone turned.
Bianca’s smile was wet with tears and malice.
“Tanungin mo si Alina kung bakit nandoon palagi si Dr. Miguel. Tanungin mo kung bakit pangalan niya ang nasa hospital records. Tanungin mo kung bakit mas mabilis siyang tinawagan kaysa sa iyo!”
Attorney Marisol’s face darkened.
“Enough.”
But Bianca twisted violently against the officer’s hold.
“Hindi! Dapat malaman niya! Dapat maramdaman niya kung paano maagawan!”
Alina closed her eyes.
Rafael looked from Bianca to Alina.
The poison had entered.
He hated himself for it.
But the question still formed.
“Alina… who is Dr. Miguel to you?”
Alina turned slowly.
For a moment, she looked deeply tired.
“Is that really the question you want to ask right now?”
Rafael’s throat tightened.
“Our child is in danger, and you’re asking who the doctor is?”
He fell silent.
Alina smiled faintly.
It was the saddest smile he had ever seen.
“Seven years, Rafael. Seven years of marriage. And even now, the first thing you feel is jealousy, not fear.”
She walked toward the door.
This time, Rafael did not stop her.
But he followed.
Attorney Marisol tried to block him.
“Mr. Villanueva, I strongly advise—”
“I don’t care,” he said. “Call my lawyers. Call whoever you want. I’m going to Davao.”
Alina did not look back.
“Then watch from far away. That is all you deserve.”
The trip to Davao felt like punishment.
Rafael chartered a private plane, but Alina refused to ride with him. She took a commercial flight with Attorney Marisol, leaving him to arrive almost at the same time but never near enough to speak to her.
At the airport, photographers were already waiting.
Someone had leaked the scandal.
“Sir Rafael! Totoo po bang namatay ang inyong ina dahil sa litrato ng assistant ninyo?”
“Sir, may anak po ba kayo kay Mrs. Villanueva?”
“Ma’am Alina! Totoo po bang nag-file kayo ng criminal case?”
Flash after flash.
Alina lowered her head and walked straight ahead.
Rafael tried to shield her, but she stepped away from him as if his presence were another wound.
By the time they reached the private hospital in Davao, the baby was already in the neonatal ICU.
Through the glass, Rafael saw her.
Tiny.
Fragile.
Wrapped in wires and tubes.
Her chest rose and fell weakly under the machine’s rhythm.
The world stopped.
He had closed billion-peso deals without blinking.
He had faced boardrooms filled with enemies.
He had walked away from his wife a thousand times without guilt.
But one look at that tiny face destroyed him.
“She was premature,” Dr. Miguel said quietly beside them. “Born after severe maternal stress and physical exhaustion. Mrs. Reyes collapsed after the funeral rites. The baby had to be delivered early.”
Rafael turned pale.
“How early?”
Dr. Miguel looked at Alina first.
She did not speak.
“Twenty-nine weeks,” the doctor answered.
Rafael staggered back.
Twenty-nine weeks.
That meant Alina had been pregnant while kneeling at his mother’s wake.
Pregnant while arranging the funeral.
Pregnant while calling him over and over again.
Pregnant when he was drinking wine with Bianca by the sea.
He looked at Alina.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
Dr. Miguel’s gaze sharpened.
“She tried.”
Rafael froze.
The doctor held out a file.
“According to her call logs, she called you thirty-two times within forty-eight hours.”
Rafael could not take the file.
His hands were shaking too badly.
Dr. Miguel continued, voice controlled but cold.
“When she arrived here, she had a fever, low blood pressure, and signs of extreme exhaustion. She still refused to rest until her mother-in-law’s ashes were secured.”
“She’s my mother,” Rafael whispered.
Dr. Miguel looked at him.
“She became hers when you disappeared.”
That sentence hit harder than a punch.
Rafael had no defense.
From behind the glass, the baby made a tiny movement.
Alina immediately pressed her palm against the glass.
Her whole body leaned forward, as if she could warm the child through distance alone.
“What’s her name?” Rafael asked hoarsely.
Alina did not answer.
Dr. Miguel glanced at her.
She closed her eyes.
After a long moment, she said:
“Carmen.”
Rafael’s breath broke.
“You named her after Mama?”
“She asked me to,” Alina said. “Before she died.”
He covered his face with one hand.
For the first time, Rafael Villanueva cried without caring who saw.
But Alina did not comfort him.
Not anymore.
Minutes later, a nurse rushed out.
“Doctor, Baby Carmen’s saturation is dropping again.”
Dr. Miguel immediately went inside.
Alina followed to the restricted line, but the nurse stopped her.
“Ma’am, please wait here.”
Rafael stood beside her, helpless.
Inside the glass room, doctors and nurses moved quickly.
The machines beeped faster.
Alina’s hands trembled.
Rafael reached out instinctively to hold her hand.
She pulled away.
“Don’t.”
His hand froze midair.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Alina stared at the glass.
“Sorry doesn’t make a heartbeat stronger.”
He swallowed.
“I’ll do anything.”
She finally looked at him.
“Then sign the divorce.”
Rafael’s face went blank.
“What?”
“Sign it.”
“Alina, not now.”
“Now.”
His voice turned desperate.
“Our daughter is inside fighting for her life. You want me to sign divorce papers now?”
“Yes.”
“How can you be so cruel?”
Alina looked at him.
For the first time that day, anger burned through her calm.
“Cruel?”
She stepped closer.
“Cruel was turning off your phone while your mother was dying.”
Rafael flinched.
“Cruel was letting your wife kneel through a funeral while carrying your child.”
Her voice shook, but she did not stop.
“Cruel was making me choose a tiny coffin in my nightmares because I didn’t know if our daughter would survive the night.”
Rafael’s eyes reddened.
“Alina…”
“No. You don’t get to call my name like you’re the one breaking.”
She took the divorce agreement from Attorney Marisol, who had quietly approached.
Then she placed it against Rafael’s chest.
“If you really want to do one thing right, sign it. Free me before our daughter opens her eyes and sees me still chained to the man who broke us.”
Rafael stared at the paper.
His vision blurred.
Before he could answer, Dr. Miguel came out of the NICU.
His face was serious.
Alina rushed toward him.
“How is she?”
“She’s stable for now,” he said, “but we need to discuss a possible procedure. There may be complications with her lungs.”
Rafael stepped forward.
“I’ll pay for everything. Bring the best doctors. Manila, Singapore, wherever. I’ll arrange it.”
Dr. Miguel glanced at him.
“This is not about money.”
Rafael stiffened.
“What do you mean?”
The doctor looked at Alina.
She seemed to already know.
“Baby Carmen may need a specific blood component support if her condition worsens. We ran preliminary compatibility checks.”
Rafael immediately said:
“Test me.”
Alina’s face changed.
Dr. Miguel looked at Rafael carefully.
“We will. But there is something you should know first.”
Attorney Marisol suddenly said:
“Doctor.”
But Dr. Miguel continued.
“The mother is not a match for the emergency markers.”
Rafael’s brows furrowed.
“Then test me now.”
A heavy silence fell.
Dr. Miguel looked at him in a way Rafael could not understand.
“We already have your blood type on file from the Villanueva corporate medical records.”
Rafael waited.
Dr. Miguel’s voice lowered.
“Based on the initial data, you are not compatible either.”
Rafael froze.
“What?”
Alina closed her eyes.
Bianca’s venomous words flashed through Rafael’s mind.
A man from Davao.
A doctor.
Hospital records.
His face turned ashen.
“No,” he said slowly. “That’s impossible.”
Dr. Miguel’s jaw tightened.
“I’m not saying anything beyond medical compatibility.”
Rafael turned to Alina.
“Tell me.”
She did not answer.
His voice cracked.
“Alina, tell me she’s mine.”
Alina’s face was pale, but her gaze was steady.
“The child is innocent.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Attorney Marisol stepped in.
“Mr. Villanueva, this is not the time.”
But Rafael could no longer hear anyone.
All the guilt, grief, jealousy, and fear twisted into one unbearable storm.
He looked through the glass at the tiny baby named after his dead mother.
Then back at Alina.
“Is Carmen my daughter?”
Alina’s lips trembled.
For a moment, Rafael thought she would finally answer.
But before she could speak, a nurse came running from the corridor, holding a sealed envelope.
“Dr. Miguel! The second lab report just arrived.”
Dr. Miguel took it, opened it quickly, and his expression changed.
Alina gripped the edge of the counter.
“What is it?”
The doctor did not answer at once.
Rafael’s heart pounded so loudly he could barely hear anything else.
Finally, Dr. Miguel looked up.
His eyes moved from Alina to Rafael.
Then to the name printed on the report.
“Rafael Villanueva,” he said slowly, “we have a problem.”
Rafael stepped forward.
“What problem?”
The doctor held out the report.
“The blood sample registered under your name at Villanueva Group…”
He paused.
Alina’s face turned completely white.
“…does not belong to you.”